Perthro; The Well of Secrets

I stepped through the Door and into the Otherworld and looked at my feet. I was barefoot and standing on flat stones, wet and smooth and shining like polished silver. It was night, I wore a deep purple gown and the rain fell softly on my bare arms.  The tall dark trees around me sparkled with silver lights as though an entire tribe lived among the treetops.

The path led in a spiral and I followed it down to a deep well surrounded by the same flat stones.  The water was clear but dark, like a scrying pool.  A woman with dark hair and dark eyes and pale skin, wearing a dark gown sat beside the pool.  She spoke to me with her mind and showed me all of the secrets of our family, generations of us, our Wyrd and our fate. 

She said that this was the Well of Secrets, of memory and fate and the Wyrd of us, of our family.  All was water and light among shadow and I gave a gift, a silver strand of light from my womb.  I cast it into the well as an offering to our family fate, to the family secrets.  A sacrifice to further us along, a promise to teach my children love.

I vowed that I would teach my children not to be afraid, that with me, in my heart and in my love they are safe from abandonment, from ever having to sacrifice themselves or their own truth. 

I know this vow is true and right and I know that it begins with me.  I returned with a renewed sense of peace and purpose.  

Ansuz; Learning to Listen

I stepped through the door and into the Otherworld and looked at my feet, then at my body, then around me and waited.  I could see nothing.  I thought my eyes must be closed but, that was not the case.  I thought something had gone wrong.  All I saw was nothing, blackness, stillness, silence.  I did not understand.  I waited.  I almost began to panic but I was breathing and I could hear and feel my breath.  I could feel my heart beating.  I waited.

A voice spoke in the darkness and I listened.  It spoke about hearing my inner voice.  It spoke about listening to my own instinct and intuition.  It spoke about listening and following my own wisdom.  It was only a voice, only words, language, that thing I love most of all.

Months later I learned the lesson again.  In the mundane world of my job, I learned what it really meant to listen and follow my own truth.  I also learned that journeying can take any form that is needed.  Sometimes it defies all expectations and I need to be willing to let go of the ideas I have about what will happen.  I had begun to do just that and this journey brought the lesson home.

My Dark Moon Ritual is all about listening to the voices of Clarity, Truth, Intuition and Wisdom.  It is about turning inward toward the stillness, silence, darkness and listening to Spirit.  This journey was another way to experience that listening.  It just so happens that it was a Dark Moon in February.

Naudhiz; Connection

I step through the Door and into the Otherworld.  I look down at my feet, I am barefoot and the ground beneath my feet is covered in dead leaves.  My legs and arms are bare and my body is covered by a rough leather hide and a knife is tied at my waist.  All is quiet and as I look around me I see that I am in a wood in late autumn at dusk.  In one hand I carry a wooden bow and in the other a handmade arrow. 

There is a broad path before me and I follow it through the wood.  I walk quietly, slowly but with an easy stride.  I feel the leaves beneath my bare feet, they are soft and I am surprised at how comfortable and at ease I am in this place.  As I walk, I begin to feel a strong hunger in my belly and slowly a sense of urgency creeps into my body.  I begin to feel a strong need to complete some crucial task and return to my home before it is too late.  There are those I love in need and I must provide for them or they will suffer.  My heart is pounding so loudly in my ears that I can hear nothing else.

The feeling of constraint, of real need, becomes so strong that it is almost overwhelming.  Then I see her, standing in the middle of the path a dozen yards in front of me.  I stop and stare at her and she looks at me.  Our eyes meet and I am overcome by her beauty as I raise my bow, nock my arrow upon the bowstring, pull back and aim at her heart.

The moment I release my arrow, my heart almost explodes, and when it pierces her heart, I feel the sharp point penetrate my own.  My body convulses with the shock as I make my way to her as she falls.  When I reach her, I kneel at her head and with my knife I slit her throat.  I can feel the life and spirit leave her; I can feel our blood drain into the earth as I hold her as she gives up her life to feed my own. 

My bare legs and feet are covered in her blood as I kneel beside her beautiful body and I place my hands in the blood pooled upon the earth around me and bathe my arms and face with it.  I understand the cost, the sacrifice and the true connection between the hunter and the one who is hunted to feed the tribe.  It should be painful to take a life; it should sacrifice a part of the hunter to fill the need.

Sowilo; Riding in the Sun

I stepped through the Doorway into the Otherworld and looked at my feet.  I was barefoot and standing on green grass in the sunshine and I wore a simple green dress, the color of the grass.  I stood on a hill in the late spring in the full sunshine of mid-day.  The land around me was a patchwork of meadows bordered by tall trees in full leaf and before me there stood a beautiful chestnut mare.  She walked up to me and I climbed upon her back and she began to trot across the meadow until we came to a trail. 

She trotted and cantered and walked and galloped and when we came upon a fence or a downed tree she jumped it with ease.  The sun was warm, the breeze was soft, the air was sweet and her movement underneath me felt strong and sure.  I simply rode and let her have her way.  When I felt a desire to go in a particular direction she seemed to read my thoughts and adjusted her movement with subtle grace.

When she returned me to the place she had found me, I slid off her back and stroked her soft warm neck in thanks.  She stood, waiting for my gift, my offering.  I found in a pocket of my dress an apple and I offered it to her and she spoke to me.  She asked me for a vow.  A vow to play in the sun, to do those things that I found to be fun.  To enjoy my life and follow the subtle and graceful way that she had shown me.  I made my vow and stood a moment longer enjoying the sun and the breeze and as she walked away, I felt filled with contentment and pleasure.  

Tiwaz; Dance of the Wolf Shaman

Painting by Susan Seddon Boulet

I step through the Door and into the Otherworld.  I look down at my feet. I am barefoot and the ground beneath my feet is covered in snow.  I am wearing animal pelts, furs secured with strips of rough leather.  They are soft and warm and despite the snow upon the ground, I do not feel the cold. 

I look around me and discover that I am in an old-growth forest of conifers.  The sky overhead is black, but filled with bright stars.  As my eyes adjust to the darkness, the path before me is just visible enough to follow, the starlight reflecting off the snow that covers the ground.

I step forward and begin to follow the path through the forest.  It is dark and quiet and as I walk along I begin to feel as though I am being watched, not followed so much as accompanied by an unseen companion.  It is then that I notice the light ahead.  I continue on, eager to discover the source of the light.

I come to a clearing in the trees and find a large fire blazing at its center.  I pause for a moment at the place where the path meets the clearing and watch.  The fire is very large and burning bright and high, sparks rising from the top high into the night sky.  Then from the other side of the clearing, he appears dancing around the fire.  He is large and has long hair and a long beard and he is naked but for the pelt of a wolf.  He is dancing ecstatically around the fire, spinning and leaping and moving more like a wolf than a man. 

Then I notice the wolf pelt laid out upon a large rock next to me.  Instinct tells me that I am to put it on and dance with the shaman.  I do and find that my awkwardness fades and I move as if the wolf is dancing through me. As I dance, I can feel a sense of sacrifice. 

I feel the sacrifice that the shaman makes, going into the dark, cold night and dancing alone.  Sacrificing the comfort of community for the sake of his community.  Leaving the comforts of his warm, safe home and the pleasures of his bed and his lover, the joys of tucking his children in, to dance this night with the wolf in the forest.

I leave the pelt I have been given upon the rock on which I found it and return the way I came.

My Pwca always lays with me when I travel and this journey was no different until just before I opened the door.  He suddenly attacked my hand with teeth and claws and then removed himself to a chair instead.  As soon as I returned and closed the door behind me he returned to my side, as loving as always, and purred until he fell asleep.  The message I took from that is that he doesn’t like Wolves.  He will travel with me but not if I am going to visit the Wolf.

Wunjo; the Joy of Mud

I stepped through the door into the Otherworld and looked at my feet.   I was barefoot and the ground beneath me was mud, silky and cool.   My feet and legs, my bare arms were covered in a sheen of mud as well.  I wore a dress of brown silks, many shades in velvets, taffetas, brocades and sheers, unfinished edges and uneven but beautiful. 

I looked around me and found that I was in a wood, wet and muddy.  I walked along a path to the bank of a stream; the water was high, flowing, opaque brown and lovely. On a clear bank I saw a short round stump and walked towards it.

Upon the stump I found a pile of unformed clay.  I began to play with it and to form it and found that I had created a baby-doll, like the one I had as a child, and I became aware of a truth about myself.  I have been a mother my entire life.  Even when I was a toddler, the mother was a part of my identity. 

I noticed that, while I had thought that I had used all of the clay to create my child, there was yet more there and so, I began to play again and found myself making a bowl.  When I placed the vessel upon the alter next to the child, there was yet more mud and so I took it up and began to play again. I made small round coins and carved then with the runes, and placed them in the bowl.

When my creations were complete I sat in the mud and I was filled with a feeling of satisfaction, contentment and joy.

Isa; In the Orchard

I step through the Door and into the Otherworld.  I look down at my feet, I am barefoot and the green grass beneath me is covered in frost.  I examine my clothing, a silver sparkling gown, my bare arms covered in a thin layer of ice.  My every breath creating an icy fog with each exhale, with every inhale a clear, cleansing chill permeates my chest then spreads throughout my entire being.  I look beyond my breath and find myself in an orchard.  The trees encased in ice.  Each branch, each leaf, each fruit completely coated in clear crystalline ice.  The sun is just rising before me, the new moon a sliver just above the tree tops at the far edge of the orchard. 

I step forward and follow a path between the glorious sculptures.  The sky above is clear and tinted a soft rose and pale gold. The light of the rising sun illuminates the icy details of the life waiting to emerge.  All is quiet and still.  Alive, but waiting. 

I come to a clearing in the center of the orchard.  There is an alter of ice, a vessel, like a chalice.  It calls to me and, I approach and stand before it.  I search for an offering and find I have no tangible object.  And then I feel light from my heart emanating forward in a silver stream.  The light fills the chalice and I feel full of hope and peace. 

The sunlight slowly melts the ice and life waits in stillness, in silence, to emerge.